


Till the Cows Come Home

by ArcticLucie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Carl likes carrots, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, I made myself laugh, Jesus is a bull rider, Rick and Daryl are bulls, Shane is a retired police dog, Yes you read that right, a breath of fresh air in these uncertain times, cow!AU, sneaky canon references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticLucie/pseuds/ArcticLucie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Rick had lived his whole life on Hershel’s farm. He woke up when the annoying cock crowed at dawn, ambled over toward the magically replenishing trough, ate his fill, and then followed the herd out to pasture. It wasn’t a particularly exciting life, but it was his, and damn if he didn’t excel at it.</i><br/> <br/>***</p><p>Or the cow!AU nobody asked for but totally should have!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till the Cows Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> I have to lay some of the blame for this idea on Tiofrean, and also MermaidSheenaz and Superblackmarket for ~~enabling~~ encouraging me to write this. I had so much fun with it! Cows are really amazing animals and I love them. 
> 
> Not everyone is a cow in this. Shane and Morgan are dogs, Sophia is a barn cat, Glenn, Phillip, Jesus, and the Greene family are all human, but I think it’s safe to assume everyone else is a cow. Even the characters I don’t mention are probably part of the herd.
> 
> Enjoy!

Rick had lived his whole life on Hershel’s farm. He woke up when the annoying cock crowed at dawn, ambled over toward the magically replenishing trough, ate his fill, and then followed the herd out to pasture. It wasn’t a particularly exciting life, but it was his, and damn if he didn’t excel at it.

He had him a nice little family. Carl, his bull calf, had sprouted up the past year. He’d be a fine bull by next spring, ready to head out into the world and make a life for himself, so long as he didn’t get sold to the butcher—whatever that was. The newest addition was due any day now, but babies weren’t his thang. Lori did most of the calf rearing anyway. Her poor teats already looked painfully engorged.

But Rick was happy to spend most of his leisure with Daryl.

The shaggy Highland bull had showed up in the barn one day out of the blue, his rusty hair matted and caked with dirt. He didn’t moo much at first and Rick sensed he’d come from a place less ideal than the pristine pastures owned by the Greene family. Maggie and Beth came out with the sheers later that day and tried to give him a trim, but he’d kicked and snorted up a storm until they left him in peace.

Next time they attempted it, Rick trotted over and blocked them from getting to Daryl. He didn’t know why he’d done it. Daryl had looked pissed off, and Rick wanted to help. Maggie swatted him on the nose for it and told him to move, but he had a good ton on her and refused. “Fine, have it your way,” she spat, spanking him on the ass on her way out.

And they’d been best friends ever since, inseparable, as tightly joined as a dried out cow patty baked into the dirt by the Georgia sun.

*****

_Woof, woof._

“Dammit, here comes Shane,” Daryl mooed before munching on another mouthful of grass.

Rick raised his head, swallowing down the cud in his mouth. “What’s he want?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

Shane the German Shepherd came trotting up and sat down right in front of them on the bright patch of green Rick had been working his way over to for the last hour. Damn, he couldn’t eat it now; the dog had contaminated it.

“ ‘Sup, cows. Everything okay in this quadrant?”

Rick sighed. “For the last time, Shane, we’re bulls, and _this_ is a pasture.”

“Same difference.”

“No, not really.”

“Oh man, y’all shoulda seen the sexy fox I tapped last night.” Shane jumped to his feet and started to strut around, his whole back end wagging as he regaled them with his story. “Thick red coat, fluffy tail. Mmm, mmm, mmm. She said she was headin’ over to the hen house, but she took one whiff of me and pounced like the dirty minx she was...”

“Fox, not minx,” Rick corrected.

Daryl leaned over to Rick. “Thought I overheard Maggie cursin’ him this morning for letting that fox kill another bird.”

“…and I showed her who the big dog on campus was, if y’all know what I mean.”

“So you chased her off?” Daryl asked, his eyes squinting with skepticism.

“Hell nah, I humped her into submission. I have a feeling she’ll be back for round two real soon.”

“You just might be the worst herd dog I ever saw.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m a police dog. Y’all are just jealous I got a badge and you don’t.”

“Don’t need no badge,” Daryl said with a snort.

“What about eyes? How can you even see anything through that fringe of yours?”

“Don’t need those either. I got horns.”

“Yeah, but he don’t,” Shane cackled, nodding toward Rick, who had, up to that point, been perfectly content to stay out of their pissing contest.

Rick gave an indignant moo. “I don’t have to prove nothing. And if anything, y’all are jealous of this Galloway coat of mine. You can’t get curls like this from a bottle.”

Daryl snickered through a mouthful of grass, “Yeah, sure.”

Shane’s ears perked up and he began running in circles. “Dinner bell! Dinner bell! Le’s get a move-on, ya cows!” he yapped before taking off toward the barn.

“Wasn’t he supposed to round us up first?” Rick asked.

“Worst herd dog ever,” Daryl replied.

“Give him a break,” Andrea said, her and Michonne joining the main group as they began to mosey on up to the barn. “It’s only his first week here.”

“Don’t see how we need another dog to round us up. Morgan does just fine,” Daryl said.

Rick cast him a sideways glance.

“Well he did….”

“Until his ‘enlightenment,’ ” Michonne added.

“Least I ain’t the only one Zen around here.” With that, Daryl flicked his tail and trotted ahead of the herd, which was probably for the best. That way he didn’t hear all the snickers.

Lori let out a distressed moo that changed Rick’s focus. She had started to lag behind the rest of the herd, but Rick slowed just enough to keep her in his periphery. “Anyone seen Carl?”

“I thought he was with you,” Rick said.

“He was, _Rick._ ”

“Dammit, Lori! You know he wanders.”

“I just took my eyes off him for a second to take a few licks on the salt block. Y-you don’t know how h-hard it is looking after him and carrying this calf.”

Rick felt bad when she started to cry.

“And what if he finds a hole in the fence and gets out again?”

“That’s why he got branded,” Rick assured her. “I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll go look for him.”

“Thank you.”

*

Carl had a great nose. He could smell things miles away, which was how he managed to locate Otis all the way at the other end of the farm. He liked Otis ever since he saved him when he got his leg caught in a barbed wire fence as a calf. And the thing about Otis was he always carried food with him. A growing bull needed sustenance, and even though he knew his mother would get onto him later, he took off toward the familiar smell as soon as he had the chance.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya? A bull calf needs to stay with the herd,” Otis chastised as soon as he saw Carl heading toward him.

Carl mooed and batted his big eyes at him. He gave Otis a few nudges as he leaned over to repair a line in the fence, and Otis playfully pushed him away. “Would ya stop? I’m gonna stick myself.” After a few more moos, Otis gave in, stopping his work and making his way over to his four-wheeler.

“You are as stubborn as your father.”

Carl watched him retrieve a plastic baggie full of carrots, one of his favorites, and pull a few out. Otis laughed when Carl’s tongue lapped up a carrot from his hand. “Good boy, but I bet your momma’s worried sick.” He stroked Carl’s neck and fed him a few more. They distracted Carl to the point he didn’t notice his father walking up.

“Carl, what did I tell you about wandering off?” Rick tried to sound authoritative, but his attention quickly turned to Otis’s outstretched hand and the little carrot stick he offered. “Just…apologize to your…mother when…we get back,” Rick said as he crunched away on his carrot.

“I think we should start heading back,” Otis said once they finished off the carrots. Rick sniffed him as he checked for any lingering treats, but he came up empty.

Otis climbed on his four-wheeler and led the way to the barn. Shane was the first to greet them when they made it back, followed by Sophia the barn cat. Her and Carl were born on the same day and had a special bond. It made Rick happy that his son had someone his own age to play with. Bull calves needed best friends too.

He left them to their romp around the barnyard and went inside to find Daryl. It came as no surprise that Daryl had already curled up in his favorite spot in the corner. Rick strolled over to him and lay down beside him where they both proceeded to chew their cud until sleep embraced them.

*****

“Today’s the day, Maggie,” Beth said, a cheery grin on her rosy cheeks. They’d just finished shoveling the manure out of the horse stalls and had moved on to brushing out some of the cows. “He’s settled in, so I’m gonna pet him.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Beth. He’s kind of temperamental.”

“Yeah, but he looks so soft and cuddly!”

“If you wanna cuddle with something, go cuddle Carl. Or better yet, go do something productive. Tabitha needs to be milked. Daddy wants to give some to Eastman in exchange for some goat cheese.”

“Fine,” Beth huffed, tossing the brush back on the shelf and stomping out of the barn. She sulked as she made her way over to the goat pen where she grabbed a bucket and proceeded to squeeze the milk from Tabitha’s teats. When she ran dry, Beth brushed out her coat, the coarse hair the exact opposite of what she imagined Daryl’s would feel like.

She’d never seen a Highland up close, and she really didn’t see the harm in petting him a little. So she waited until Maggie went over to check on the chicken coup before she snuck back into the barn.

Daryl was lying down in his spot, and she slowly slipped through the door to his stall. “Hey boy, ‘member me?”

He snorted back, peering at her through his shaggy hair.

Beth took that as a good sign, but she probably shouldn’t have because as soon as she got an arm’s length away, he reared up and charged her. She scrambled back through the door, but she didn’t get a chance to latch it before she slipped into another stall for cover. Daryl hit the door, which sprang open with a loud thud, and bucked wildly as he tore through the barn and out into the yard.

With her heart thumping in her chest, Beth made her way out the back door of the barn and ran up to the house screaming for her daddy to come help.

“What in tarnation?” Hershel bellowed as he thundered out onto the porch. He had a napkin still tucked into the collar of his shirt, and a half eaten chicken leg in one hand.

“H-he got out!”

“I can see that, Bethy,” he replied, eyes focused on the 2000 pound bull throwing a fit in the yard. “You go on in the house.”

“But daddy!”

“Get!” he hollered, thrusting his chicken leg at her as she stomped by.

*

Maggie had come tearing out of the coup as soon as she heard the commotion. When her eyes caught sight of Daryl going crazy in the yard, she hightailed it into gear, cursing Beth under her breath as she made her way to the house.

“Maggie, go get Rick,” her daddy said.

Without a second thought, she rushed toward the barn. She didn’t know what good that would do, but she also knew Rick and Daryl were best friends. There was a time when she would’ve laughed something like that off, cows having friends, but then Glenn had showed her a scientific article with empirical proof, and she had to give in to the possibility that cows did in fact have best friends.

She shook off the thought of her city slicker boyfriend and grabbed a horse lead from the wall on her way to the bullpen. “Get up, Rick. We need your help.”

Rick let out an unenthusiastic moo as he stood up. “What do y’all want now? I was all settled in for the night?”

Maggie hooked up the lead and gave a few tugs on it in an attempt to get Rick to follow. “Move your stubborn ass,” Maggie said, moving around behind him to push on his hindquarters. “Daryl needs help.”

“Daryl? Well why didn’t you say so?”

*

A cloud of dust Daryl had stirred up hit Rick in the face when Maggie led him outside. The ornery bull stomped and snorted around, threatening to charge at anyone who dared to move into his space.

“Daryl?” Rick mooed. “What’s going on out here?”

Daryl spun as soon as he heard his friend. “That small one tried to _touch_ me, Rick.” He stomped his hoof in disgust. “Nobody touches me.”

“That’s just Beth. She don’t mean no harm. Jus’ come back inside and we’ll have some nice hay to munch on.”

“But what if she tries it again?”

“Well, just use those horns you’re always spouting off about.”

Daryl didn’t look convinced, but with another snort, he deflated, his temper subsiding. “What kind of hay?”

“Otis just put out some of that bluegrass you like so much.”

Shane came running up barking like crazy as he interrupted. “What’d I miss? What’d I miss?”

“We were just heading back to the barn for dinner,” Rick replied, turning around when Maggie tugged on his lead.

“Okay, Maggie, I’ll take it from here,” Shane barked. “Get back to the barn, ya cows!”

“Don’t test me, Shane,” Daryl huffed, kicking at the scrappy dog trying to nip at his hoofs.

“Shane,” Rick admonished.

“Jus’ let me have this,” Shane pleaded. “Might get me some table scraps out of it.”

“Fine,” Daryl said. “But don’t ever say I never gave ya nothin’.”

*****

The next day, Daryl had to stay behind when the herd went out to pasture. It pissed him off, but Hershel said something about checking him over for injuries before he distracted him with apples. Daryl liked apples, so he figured it wasn’t all bad.

Until _he_ showed up.

Daryl had seen a few city folk in his day, and Glenn was the very definition of one. His clothes looked _wrong_ on him, a pair of wranglers, boots that looked like they’d never been worn before, and a Stetson way too clean to have ever seen the inside of a barn, or the outside of its hatbox.

“What are you lookin’ at?” Daryl mooed, but Glenn just smiled at him.

“Okay, Glenn, you’ve done the research, watched all the youtube videos, went to that petting zoo at the State Fair, so I think you can do this. No, I _know_ you can.”

“Do what?”

Daryl watched him collect a bucket and a three-legged stool. He snorted when Glenn entered his stall, but at least he didn’t look as doe-eyed as the blond had the night before. Glenn let out a breath and approached. Daryl narrowed his eyes at him, but his curiosity won over the instinct to run.

“What the hell you doin’, city boy?”

“Everything will be fine. I’ll do this thing, and Maggie will be so impressed, so just help me out here,” Glenn mumbled. He sat down on the stool, placed the bucket underneath, and slowly outstretched his hand.

Daryl’s eyes went wide when Glenn made contact, a cold, clammy hand taking hold of his dick. His shock soon gave way to instinct and he kicked, his foot making contact with the bucket as Glenn flew off the chair, and scrambled backward out the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Maggie yelped, shutting and latching the door as soon as Glenn was clear.

Daryl kicked at the bucket again and trampled the little stool. He’d never felt so humiliated in his life.

“Oh my God! Were you trying to milk our bull?”

“Bull?” Glenn asked, his face turning redder by the second. “I…oh man. I’m really sorry. I thought it was a cow.”

“It has a penis, Glenn! That is clearly a bull,” Maggie said as she hauled him to his feet. “But are you okay? Did he get you?”

“No, no, I’m all right.”

*

“…and then she tried to eat him,” Daryl said, regaling his harrowing adventure to Rick later that night.

“She tried to eat him?” Rick mooed in disbelief.

“Well, I guess…she put her mouth on his…and then they did it right there in front of me like animals. No shame. She mounted him, and I had to look away, but you can’t unhear something like that, Rick. ‘Ride ‘em cowboy?’ Who even says that? About a city dweller no less.”

“Shh, here he comes.”

“Hey, Daryl,” Glenn said. “…I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn’t know you were a…dude, err, bull, but I made you a sign, so it won’t happen again.” Glenn held up a white piece of cardboard that read: **Do not grab Daryl by the dick.**

  
  


“What’s that say?” Daryl mooed to Rick.

“I don’t know, I can’t read,” Rick replied as he glared at Glenn.

“Uh Maggie?”

“Yeah, Glenn?” came her muffled voice from somewhere out of view.

“I don’t think this one likes me either.”

Maggie walked up and slung her arm over Glenn’s shoulder. “That’s Rick. Him and Daryl are best friends, so I’m not really surprised he hates you too.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and let go. “Maybe he’s just jealous my boyfriend didn’t try to jack him off too,” she snickered as she went back to her chores.

“Oh, ha, ha…sorry, Rick. Maybe next time.”

*****

The farm had its fair share of visitors. Eastman dropped by from time to time to collect goat milk. He insisted Tabitha’s made the best cheese in the county. They also had neighbors stop in for fresh eggs and milk when the Greenes had an overabundance. And in the summer months, Maggie and Beth set up a roadside stand to sell fruits and vegetables.

But something about the tall stranger buzzing around in the barn this morning had Rick’s hackles raised.

“I’m askin’ you to name your price here, Hershel,” the stranger said as he eyed Andrea in her pen. “You got a full barn, and I’m just asking for the one.”

Hershel scooped some soiled straw into a wheelbarrow with a shovel. “And I already told ya, Mr. Blake. My cattle ain’t for sale.”

“Please, call me Phillip. And I’m sure we can work out some sort of arrangement.”

“I’m afraid you’re wastin’ your time,” Hershel said as he turned back around, the sound of the shovel scraping against the ground nearly drowning out Phillip’s reply.

“What about the bulls over there? You rent out their services?”

“Rick’s booked two years in advance and Daryl’s still learnin’ the ropes ‘round here, so you’re just gonna have to find someone else to do business with. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Rick gave a loud snort when Phillip glared at Hershel. Yeah, he didn’t like that guy.

“Suit yourself.” Phillip turned to leave, but not before giving Andrea one last look.

***

Rick wasn’t as wary of the next visitor. Maybe because their short stature didn’t intimidate him. The visitor also had long hair and a bandana covering half their face, so Rick couldn’t really tell if they were a bull or a cow. Humans all looked the same to him anyway.

“Rick, Daryl, this is Jesus,” Maggie said. “He’s a friend of mine and rides bulls for a living. I thought I’d invite him out to meet y’all.”

Daryl swallowed down the grass he’d just plucked from the ground. “What do you mean ‘rides bulls?’ What does she mean, Rick?”

“Hell if I know. Maybe he wants Maggie to mount him like that Glenn guy.”

“Good Lord, don’t remind me.”

They watched Jesus climb through the fence into the round pen.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Maggie called after him.

“I do this for a living, remember?” he said with a smirk. “I’ll be fine.”

“Rick! He’s got apples!” Daryl mooed as he happily trotted over to Jesus. “I can smell ‘em!”

“Not so fast,” Jesus said when Daryl started to nuzzle against his thigh. That must’ve been where he had the apples stashed. “Okay, just a little taste.” Jesus pulled out a few slices and offered them to the bulls who scarfed them down.

They were so distracted by the apples, that Daryl didn’t realize he’d been mounted until he’d swallowed the last chunk. “What the f—”

*

“Why does he get to ride Daryl?” Beth pouted, watching from atop the fence as Jesus climbed on the bull’s back.

Hershel squinted into the sun before tugging on the brim of his hat. “Ya don’t ride bulls, Bethy. Bulls ride you.”

*

“Daryl!” Rick mooed.

“Rick! Get this prick off me!” Daryl snorted as he bucked and kicked, doing his best to dislodge the leech on his back. “You sick bastard! You bring shame to your whole family!”

“What is going on over here?” Shane barked as he came up to investigate the ruckus. “Oh man, that is rich! R-rick,” he howled with laughter, “he’s making Daryl his bitch!”

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch!” Daryl corrected, finally bucking hard enough to send Jesus tumbling to the ground. “I’m a bull, dammit,” he snorted, stomped the dirt before he took off for the other end of the pen.

“Yeehaw! What a ride!” Jesus yelled as he ran back over toward the fence.

“Rick, what the hell was that?” Shane managed to ask through his barks of laughter, rolling around on his back in the dirt.

“I…I don’t know.”

Rick also didn’t know how it happened to him. One minute he was talking to Shane, and the next Jesus had come up to him with another handful of apples. He’d floated over to the sweet aroma like it was a cow in heat, and Rick happily took the peace offering presented to him, lapping at the succulent juices before sucking the apples into his mouth.

And before he knew it, that ninja bastard had mounted him too.

“Daryl!”

“Rick?”

“How could you be so stupid, Grimes?” Rick mooed as he bucked and kicked out his hind legs. He couldn’t shake him no matter what he did, so he finally took off running around the pen as fast as he could. Then he hit the breaks, the change in momentum sending Jesus flying through the air where he landed right in Daryl’s crosshairs. “Get ‘im, Daryl!”

Jesus might as well have been wearing red, because Daryl lowered his head and aimed his horns right at Jesus’s ass as he charged.

*

“Oh gosh, daddy. Are you really humming Benny Hill while my friend is this close to getting a horn up his ah-backside?” Maggie groaned, watching through her fingers at the scene playing out before her.

Hershel laughed and continued his musical accompaniment as Daryl chased Jesus around the pen.

*

“This is my field, ya li’l bastard!” Daryl mooed in triumph when Jesus narrowly escaped his horn by slipping through a crack in the fence. “And don’t you forget it!”

“Daryl?” Rick said, visibly shaken when he joined his friend near the barn. “Why would he do something like that to us?”

“I don’t know, Rick, but maybe we should mount him and see how he likes it.”

The door to the barn slid open and they ambled into their stall. “Mmm, smells like sorghum for dinner,” Rick said, all of his stomachs rumbling at the thought of food. “But what were you sayin’?”

“Don’t remember,” Daryl mumbled through a mouth full of sweet grass.

*****

The last week had brought with it a torrential downpour. The pastures had turned to mud pits, but after the herd started to get a little restless, Hershel decided to turn them out for a few hours. Rick gladly led the charge out to the fields. Lori had given birth to a healthy baby calf during the worst of the storms, and he just needed a few hours to himself.

He grazed for a while, reveling in the soaked grass, and even enjoying the little bit of sunshine that poked through the clouds. Daryl and Carl didn’t stray too far from him, but they all spread out a little more than usual after days in close quarters.

“Hey Rick,” Andrea said, interrupting his peace.

Rick lifted his head to regard her. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember that visitor from a few weeks ago that wouldn’t stop staring at me?”

“The tall guy?”

“That’s the one…well I think we spotted him up the fence line.”

Rick swallowed down his cud. “What?”

“Michonne’s lurking behind some brush to keep an eye on him, but he’s starting to creep me out.”

“Okay, we’ll go have a look.”

As it turned out, they didn’t have to go looking for him because Phillip had followed Andrea. “I really hate cow thieves,” Daryl grumbled.

“What’s a cow thief?” Carl asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about, son. Let’s just keep an eye on him and see what he does. If we need to, we’ll get Shane to run him off,” Rick said. They all went back to grazing, Rick swatting at the occasion fly on his back with his tail as he watched Phillip out of the corner of his eye. Not that he had to, the guy reeked.

“Least we know what that smell is,” Daryl snickered.

Rick went back to eating, but his head snapped up as soon as he noticed Phillip climbing the fence. “That idiot’s coming onto to our turf.” He wanted to charge him, but then Phillip snagged a pant leg on the barbed wire and plunged into the mud face-first. At least Rick thought it was mud until Daryl started cackling like a mad cow. “What’s so funny?”

“H-he jus’ landed in one of my cow pies!”

Rick couldn’t help but join in, and soon the whole herd was snorting in laughter. “Think we need more cow pies under that fence, y’all.”

“Well, eat faster then.”

“I only have four stomachs, Daryl. I’m doing the best I can.”

“Should I go get Shane?” Carl asked, making sure to stand behind the two bulls for protection.

“Nah, think Michonne’s about to take care of it,” Daryl said.

Just as he mooed, Michonne came out of nowhere and charged Phillip, knocking the would-be thief right into the electric fence. Shane came rushing out upon hearing the commotion and snipped at a retreating Phillip who was doing his best to climb the fence and fend off the killer K9.

“Go on, get outta here, thief! These are my cows!” Shane barked.

Maggie followed shortly behind Shane, riding up on a horse, the reins in one hand and a pistol in the other. She shot up into the air, and judging from the smell, Rick would’ve bet Phillip soiled his pants.

“That oughta teach ‘im,” Daryl snorted.

Okay, so maybe life of the Greene farm was a little more exciting than Rick originally thought, but what did he know? He was just a bull.

“You’re welcome, cows.”

“Oh shut up, Shane.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you would've asked me three days ago if I'd ever write a cow!AU, I would've laughed at you, but I really needed something light and funny and just ridiculously outrageous. And I figured this fandom could really use it too right about now.
> 
> Also, if you are curious about what kind of bulls Rick and Daryl are: [Rick "look at dem curls" Grimes](http://media.mnn.com/assets/images/2015/02/galloway-cow.jpg) & this is the original image of Hamish, [Daryl "Don't touch my dick" Dixon's](http://hornedfaces.tumblr.com/post/148194828754) stand-in.


End file.
